


They're a Man-eater

by General_Button



Category: Venom (Movie 2018)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Light Angst, Other, Tentacle Bondage, Tentacle Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-18
Updated: 2018-10-24
Packaged: 2019-08-03 14:42:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16327967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/General_Button/pseuds/General_Button
Summary: “Hey,” Eddie says, leaning back against the kitchen table. “You’ve been quiet lately."It almost feels like—likenerves,or some shit, which doesn’t make any sense, because the symbiote never had trouble calling him a pussy and a loser before it all almost ended.Or: Eddie and his symbiote learn to be together.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I must first apologize to any comic canon fans as I've only seen the movie, so I might have butchered some things. The one thing that I took from comic canon that I've seen is that Venom is the name of their combined form and so I refer to them as "the symbiote" for the entirety of the fic unless referring to Venom specifically.

After talking to Anne and convincing her that there was nothing amiss, that he didn’t find the symbiote still living inside him, despite it all; despite the fight with Riot—a blood-curdling, terrifying event that almost left him dead—and despite the sorrow that he felt when he thought that symbiote was gone, an ache that he couldn't possibly describe, Eddie went home.

Home is just the way he left it. That is to say, the bodies and blood have been cleaned from his floor and most of the furniture replaced, but it’s the same shithole that he’s known since Anne left him to fend for himself after he fucked everything up between them.

It’s not that he has to stay here anymore, because he got a huge lump sum of money from the Life Foundation, but after Anne, and after the symbiote and Venom, he doesn’t know quite what to do with himself.

Well, that’s not entirely true. He knows of a million things he could do. He could start over. Eddie could move somewhere; find a place that suits him with the money he got, but the truth is, he doesn’t want to. This is place where the symbiote and him—this is where it all started. This is really where they become who they are now. Whatever that means.

Eddie opens the door to his apartment and steps inside. He shuts it behind him, hand hovering on the doorknob before he turns around, slowly.

It’s the same empty, lonely place that he remembers.

 _Home sweet home,_  he thinks.

There’s a slither of something inside him, like an awareness. By now, he knows it’s the symbiote.

The symbiote has been quiet since things calmed down. There’s still the never-ending, gnawing hunger that lives on inside him, but they don’t say much. Initially, after the flames from the rocket launch nearly incinerated them to death, the symbiote was quiet because they were healing. Eddie ate like a madman, devouring every bit of food that he could get his hands on, and ended up coughing up most of it because it wasn’t the right kind of food.

Since then, he’s been eating a shit-ton of chocolate and tater tots, and he’s already sick of the taste. It fills him better than most things, and it’s what the symbiote needs to heal, but it still sucks.

“We need to find you something else to eat,” he’d muttered on his way back from the convenience store, bags of chocolate and tots in hand. The symbiote had been weak, and only offered a rumbling  _hungry,_  before settling back somewhere inside his ribcage.

That was weeks ago, and now the symbiote is healed, more or less. Eddie can  _tell_  they’ve healed, but they haven’t said much.

It almost feels like—like  _nerves,_  or some shit, which doesn’t make any sense, because the symbiote never had trouble calling him a pussy and a loser before it all almost ended.

Eddie sits down at his kitchen table and buries his head in his hands. Somehow, despite not having a job to deal with that day, and having no obligations of which to speak, he feels run dry. The conversation with Anne exhausted him, because while he may understand they’ll never get back together, he still  _misses_  her.

His chest throbs when he thinks about her with Dan, going back into her apartment while he returns to a place that only reminds him of how lonely he is. How pathetic his life has become; how he’s such a goddamn  _loser._

_I can tell you still miss Anne._

Eddie lifts his head reflexively, even though there’s nothing to look at.

“Yeah, what else is new,” he grumbles, leaning his head on his hand. He sighs, waiting for the symbiote to offer more, but they’re resting still and quiet inside him. It’s when he moves towards the fridge that he feels them shift and ripple underneath the skin on his arms, tendrils bubbling up from his skin to wiggle at the freezer door.

_Hungry, Eddie._

“You’re always hungry,” he says. “Forcing me to eat crap like this so you won’t eat people. Whatever.”

He yanks open the freezer door and pulls out a bag of tater tots. After ripping it open, he dumps the entire thing on the oven tray and then shoves it inside, not bothering to wait for it to preheat.

The symbiote fades back into silence.

Eddie stares at the far wall. There’s a streak of blood that the FBI or who-the-fuck-ever forgot to clean, looking stark on the cheap wallpaper. Eddie can feel the memories of that time surface inside him. He recalls how powerful he felt, underneath all the fear. The symbiote is so  _strong,_  it’s a wonder that it lets him do anything on his own, what with how forceful it was at the beginning.

He wonders why things don’t feel like that anymore; why he doesn’t feel like that.

Maybe it was because he had a goal then. The symbiote was intent on getting to their home planet, and Eddie was just drifting along, which is sort of like a goal, if you’re a guy like him with nothing left to lose.

He glances down at the tater tots cooking. The apartment is quiet, the dead silence ringing on, broken only by the quiet ticking of the oven timer. Eddie feels something like a scream work up his throat.

“Hey,” he says, leaning back against his kitchen table. “You’ve been quiet lately. And I’ve been meaning to ask: what do I call you? Venom?”

We _are Venom,_  they reply. The response is more emphatic than before, maybe because they know food is on the way. Their feelings are like a flicker of emotion so raw and true that Eddie feels almost like it's his own. That’s how things have been since they got back together—in a matter of speaking—and it’s hard to separate what’s him and what’s the symbiote, when they feel up to talking.

He understands what the symbiote meant immediately. Venom—that’s the thing that makes up that big suit of raw power and energy. It’s when the symbiote crawls out from inside him and wraps him up in one big, strong package.

Eddie shudders, wrapping his arms around himself. He misses being Venom. He didn’t realize how much he would until he was back in his own body, no reason or rhyme to having that much power at his disposal without homicidal symbiotes trying to take over Earth.

“You’re real quiet these days,” he repeats, because the symbiote hasn’t said anything else, and the loneliness is beginning to creep back in. “What up, V?”

The nickname pops out without much thought. It’s not really his style, but it’s better than Venom, which feels like a special name all on its own.

There’s a rumble of displeasure. He gets the distinct feeling that they aren’t entirely happy with his choice in nickname.

_I am quiet because you are quiet. We are still healing._

“Still?” Eddie pulls out the tots and starts arranging them on a plate. Despite how much he’s starting to hate these things, they look fucking delicious. “You sure weren’t quiet before. You just couldn’t  _wait_  to lay it on me. Callin’ me a loser, and a pussy.”

_You called me a parasite! I would not insult you if you weren’t such an easy target._

_Pussy,_ they add, after a beat.

Eddie bursts into loud laughter, momentarily shocked by the force of it. It shakes him at his core, and he feels a thrum of pleasure come from the symbiote at having made him laugh. He quiets down quickly enough, still shoving tater tots past the grin on his face.

_I like it when you laugh. Laugh more. You are always too sad. It’s pathetic._

“Ain’t that easy, buddy. There’s not much to laugh about these days.”

He thinks about all the things he doesn’t have any more and feels his chest  _ache._

_We miss Anne._

“Well, yeah.” Eddie shrugs, keeps shoving taters. After a moment of deliberation, he reaches for the bag of chocolates in the cupboard and starts funneling those down his throat. “We—I miss a lot of things, like my own house, and my job—”

 _You didn’t take the old job. You have a new one,_  the symbiote points out.  _You are still a reporter._

“Still kinda miss it, though. I knew everybody there. We were friends. At this new job I don’t know anyone.”

_You know us. And we know you._

Eddie doesn’t say anything in reply. It’s still weird to think about—although it’s getting less so, the more that time goes on—but it’s true. The symbiote knows everything about him, having combed through his memories or whatever the hell it did to get to this point.

“At least I still get to report,” he says eventually. He abruptly realizes that he’s been shoving chocolate in his mouth for five minutes now and the bag is almost empty. “Jesus—fuck. Look what you got me doing with all this chatter. What happened to being quiet, huh?”

_You started this conversation. I did nothing to instigate your behavior._

“Don’t try and act all innocent. _You_  make me eat all this chocolate! I just bought this yesterday.” He grumbles and gripes, but he’s smiling again, the gesture as unfamiliar as it is welcome. He didn’t realize how nice it would be to have someone to talk to in his lonely apartment space, and he wonders why he didn’t try this before. “Damn parasite.”

_We are not a parasite. Take it back!_

“Not happening, V.”

_Apologize!_

“Honestly, you’ve earned that title.”

_APOLOGIZE!_

“Nu uh.”

His hand lifts itself from holding onto the plastic bag and then punches Eddie square in the jaw.

* * *

 They start talking about boundaries.

“You can’t just use my body for stuff, you get that, right?”

 _We can do whatever we want._ It’s the same phrase they used when they first met. _It’s my body, too._

“That’s—” Eddie stops, tamping down on the urge to immediately argue against the notion. Technically, it’s true. A few weeks ago, when this whole thing started, he might’ve fought back, but the symbiote feels like a part of him now. Just being away from them for even those few minutes had been demoralizing, and when he thought they had died?

Agony.

“No matter who’s body is whose,” Eddie continues, gesturing in front of him, nearly hitting a woman holding an umbrella in the process, “you can’t just use this body—our body—to do whatever you want.”

The symbiote’s form starts to ripple around his arms rebelliously, forming tightly knit cables over his forearms. The tips of the tentacles peek out from underneath his jacket, and he goes to slap his hands over them, only to find his hands are moving on their own. Then, it's his entire body.

"Whoa, whoa, hey! Where are you going?"

He starts walking to the left, and soon realizes that the symbiote is taking him to the nearby coffee shop. It’s probably less the coffee smell and more so the pumpkin-spiced latte that everyone is getting that has attracted their attention; the one with those little chocolate swirls.

_Hungry._

"I don't care if you're hungry. Stop yanking me around!"

Even as his mouth waters, Eddie starts pulling himself backwards to still the symbiote’s progress, probably looking like an insane man fighting against the wind.

A car whooshes by. Eddie is at the edge of the road now, and even though he knows the symbiote wouldn’t let him die, it still makes his heart jump up into his throat.

“Stop,” he says, trying to be quiet, still clinging to his attempts at seeming like a normal person. When the symbiote doesn’t listen, he uses every ounce of his strength to hold onto the nearby street pole, shouting out obscenities.

There’s somebody to his left that has their phone out. Either they’re filming or calling the police.

In either case, it is not a good thing.

If this got onto youtube, and people recognized him, he could potentially lose his job depending on the way it’s spun. Sure, it’s a little dramatic of a scenario, but he’d never given stock into his reputation as much as he did until he’d lost his job and couldn’t find another because of it. Plus, the whole Life Foundation thing had everybody still on edge. He was a part of that, but he doesn’t want it to define him.

“Stop! Fucking  _stop!_  I’m not joking around, V!  _Stop moving!”_

 That’s when the symbiote finally stops. Eddie collapses against the pole, holding onto it tightly, unsure.

“I asked you to stop,” he wheezes, straightening gingerly. “You don’t get to  _do_  that, asshole!”

 _I’m hungry._  They sound petulant, their irritation mirroring Eddie’s own.  _Why do you always get to choose? It’s not fair!_

Eddie pinches the bridge of his nose, turning around in a circle. People are still staring, but they’re moving on now that he isn’t actively throwing himself intro traffic.

“It’s not about being fair! This was my body in the first place. Just because you’re here now doesn’t mean you get the run of the place whenever you feel like fucking around!”

The punch was unexpected, and a one-time thing. Even though Eddie has healing powers out the wazoo now, he isn’t just going to let the symbiote use his body to do whatever they feel like; not like that first time.

_You did not care when we did it before. Why are you so angry now?_

“It was one thing when all that stuff was happening, but now…” He sighs, scratching the back of his neck. Having this conversation here, and about his fucking body, is ridiculous. “I don’t like it, okay? Not being in control like that.”

The symbiote is silent. Eddie gets the feeling that they’re considering what he’s saying more carefully now that he exploded like that. After waiting a beat, he decides to go into the coffee shop anyway, because it’s fucking cold out and coffee doesn’t sound half bad.

He’s in the middle of asking the barista to pour a ridiculous amount of chocolate syrup into the cup when the symbiote speaks up.

_I am sorry, Eddie._

“You? Sorry? Coulda fooled me,” he mutters. The barista gives him a sharp look, and he realizes she was saying something. “Sorry, uh, how much was that?”

She rattles off his total, he pays, and then moves over to wait for his order, tapping his foot impatiently. There are too many people in the room, and he’s hungry. They’re hungry, whatever.

 _I don’t like it when you are angry,_  the symbiote says.  _Not at us._

“I’m not mad anymore. But you can’t do that again. This is like the eating people thing.” Someone looks over at him and he flushes, shoving his head down, fumbling for his phone. He shoves it at his ear, pretending he’s on a call. “You’re not allowed to do it, not unless we agree. Remember?”

The symbiote rumbles under his skin, tendrils tickling his chest. They’re not happy.

_Why does it matter so much to you?_

“Because it’s important. Otherwise we’ll be fighting all the time, and I don’t think my poor body could handle that.” He pauses. “Gotta lay the ground rules if we’re rooming together. Though, no matter what happens, I have the final word.”

_Bitch._

“Did you just call me a _bitch?”_

More people are staring. A mom shoots him a glare. Fire-truck red, Eddie grabs his cup before the barista can even say his name and hurries out of the shop.

Talking with the symbiote about these things feels surreal. It’s like dealing with a naughty child, except the child is an alien that’s inhabiting his body and feels a lot like the missing part of his soul. Or something.

He tries not to think about it too hard. Even the idea of separation is an uncomfortable thought, but he’s gotten pretty good at compartmentalizing a lot of things, so he shoves that aside, too.

The coffee tastes delicious. It’s way too chocolatey for a normal person, but the symbiote loves the way it tastes going down his throat, so he keeps drinking it. Within a few minutes, it’s already gone. And then like always, he’s still hungry.

_Let’s find some bad people, Eddie. Just as a snack. We’ll make it quick and painless._

“Nope, you’re not gettin’ it,” Eddie declares. His phone is in his pocket now; he really needs to get one of those Bluetooth things if he’s going to keep talking like this.

When he thinks about it, he feels a little bad. The symbiote didn’t choose to need to survive off people’s brains, and the gnawing hunger that Eddie feels whenever he goes too long without eating (which is always since they ate that guy in Mrs. Chen’s shop) must be worse for them. Or maybe it’s the same, because they share a body now. Either way, it fucking sucks to never feel full, knowing what could give him that feeling they both crave.

“Tell ya what, I’ve got a gig today but later we can pick up some special chocolate from a place I know. Whaddya say?”

_But Eddie, we are hungry now._

“I know, buddy.” He pats his growling stomach. “I know.”

* * *

Once they start talking, they don’t stop.

Eddie doesn’t even realize how the quiet solitude that he had been wallowing in dissipates. The symbiote is his constant companion, whether he pisses or sleeps, and now that they’ve worked up some camaraderie, whatever nervousness or hesitation that was holding them back is gone. And they  _always_  have something to say.

_*_

_Eddie, look. A stray dog. We should eat it. Nobody will even notice it’s gone._

“That’s not a stray,” Eddie replies, looking pointedly at the collar around its neck. The dog sniffs at his boot and he gently shoos it away, continuing down the street.

_*_

_Eddie, you really embarrassed us back there._

“Wha—you’re a dick, you know that?”

_Bigger than yours!_

“That’s…that doesn’t make sense. And has nothing to do with this! Don’t talk about the—” His self-preservation instincts kick in, and he lowers his voice, “the size of my dick, you  _dick._  They think I’m crazy because you wouldn’t stop talking!”

_You were doing it wrong._

“How was I doing it wrong? We were just ordering at Taco Bell!”

_We hate Taco Bell. It’s all dead meat._

“You hate it. _I_  like it.”

_You are going to be sick later. We are going to make you sick._

“Don’t you fucking dare.”

_*_

_You are quiet, Eddie._

“Huh?” Eddie lifts his head from lying in his arms. He’s staring out at the water, arms resting on the railing at the edge of the pier. It’s midday, but the sky is overcast, leaving the city dreary and wet. During days like these, Eddie just wants to curl up in bed and sleep the day away. “Oh, yeah. Sorry, just thinking. What were you saying?”

 _Hungry,_  the symbiote says, but it’s half-hearted, like they’re saying it out of habit.

“Sorry. We’ll get something to eat soon.”

They don’t reply immediately. After a moment, he feels them form on top of his shoulder. When he looks over, they have transformed into a smaller version of the head he saw weeks ago. They flash their teeth at him, but the sight no longer strikes even the littlest bit of fear inside him.

“Hey,” he says, “you look all small. That’s kinda cute.”

_Cute?!_

They rear back, eyes narrowing. Eddie isn’t totally certain the white streaks on their face are actually eyes or if it’s for the benefit of looking a little more human.

_I am not cute. Take that back!_

Eddie smirks, reaching out to pat the top of their head. He’s never touched them before now, not like this, and the both of them freeze the moment he does it. Or maybe it’s that the symbiote freezes when  _he_  does, following his example.

 _We are terrifying,_  they continue, opening their mouth wide, slick tongue sliding wetly over their many sharp teeth. _We will rip out your lungs and eat them! They will taste delicious!_

“Can you feel that?” Eddie asks, stroking his fingers down the side of their undulating skin. It feels soft and wet, but when he rubs his fingers together, there’s no residue. “Huh.”

 _Stop ignoring me,_  the symbiote says, more tendrils rising up to form a larger head like the one he remembers. They keep forming, growing bigger and bigger, until he’s looking at Venom—the upper half of Venom. The bottom of their torso is a mass of tentacles that stretch to his stomach and arms.

They roar in his face, clearly going for the terrifying, and if it was anyone else other than Eddie, it would be. But looking at the symbiote is like looking at a part of himself, and that’s not terrifying at all.

When he starts laughing, the symbiote grabs his shoulders and swallows his head in their open mouth, which does pull a yelp form his chest, but instead of chomping down, they merely lick a single, disgusting stripe up the side of his face before sinking into his skin.

“Oh, gross! Come on, man!”

The symbiote moves throughout his body, brushing his organs in what is probably supposed to be a threatening manner. It does make Eddie nervous; the symbiote can heal him if it decides to take a chomp out of his heart, but they have set boundaries now.

“You better not be touching anything in there,” he threatens anyway, not quite trusting them just yet. “I’m serious, V.”

_You suck. You called me cute._

“Nothin’ wrong with being cute, man. I’ve been told I’m cute by tons of women.”

 _And men,_ the symbiote adds. Eddie winces, and a hint of curiosity flickers up from the symbiote.  _Does that matter?_

“Yes.” He scratches the back of his neck and starts walking away from the pier, his hunger getting too great to ignore. “No. I mean… ‘s just different, I guess. When a dude says it it’s more…you know.”

Without really meaning to, he conjures up images of exactly what it means when a guy calls another guy cute, at least in the sense that he’s always known it. The symbiote can’t read his mind, but it can see what he’s thinking about, in a sense, so when he starts thinking about the last guy he fucked, he knows he’s in deep shit.

_You like reproducing with men. Just like you did with Anne._

“Reproducing? Uh, sure.” He looks around, trying to find an out for this conversation. “Oh, look, taco truck! I’m gonna get us a few of those.”

* * *

Despite the power and the understanding that comes with his symbiotic relationship as Venom, Eddie still has nightmares.

Of fucking course he does. Everything that happened to him  _terrified_ him. It’s not something he can just get over after a few days of meditation; no, he has nightmares all the time, and sometimes he recalls the specific feeling of being stabbed, how much pain he’d felt; how he thought he was going to die, but worse yet, the symbiote—Venom, everything that made them who they were—was going to die along with him and there was nothing he could do about it.

His eyes snap open, a scream still hanging on his lips. His hands instantly go to his stomach, feeling where a giant shard should be sticking out of his body. For a moment, the pain is there; he can feel it clear as day, but then just as quickly, it’s gone.

He rolls over onto his back, wiping the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand.

“Fuck,” he breathes. He scrubs his hands over his face. “Shit.”

_Eddie. You are afraid._

Eddie jumps, swearing again as the symbiote materializes above him, a floating head like the one in his nightmare. He’s not afraid of them anymore, but he still can’t seem to catch his breath, his heart pounding too hard and too loud in his chest.

_We don’t like it when we are afraid. There is nothing to fear here. Stop being afraid!_

Eddie chuckles weakly. “It’s not that easy.” He pauses. “Don’t worry about it, though. I’ll go back to sleep in a minute.”

He doesn’t go back to sleep in that minute, or the next. He lies awake, staring at the ceiling, and then attempts rolling onto his side, hoping the change in position will give him a better sense of peace.

It doesn’t. An hour goes by, the fear long gone, but replaced by something else.

It gnaws at him, like the endless hunger. Sorrow swells in his chest, lodging itself in his throat and sitting there, making it impossible to breathe. Eddie’s lower lip trembles, and he exhales unsteadily, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand. He feels the symbiote rise curiously, and so he doesn’t make a sound, refusing to let on how upset he’s feeling even though they can probably tell.

He isn’t lonely anymore. Not like he once was, but he can’t help but miss the way things were before. Not completely, and not entirely, because he would never change the past, but he fucking misses it. Things were easier then. They weren’t so complicated.

He opens his mouth to breathe, and all that comes out is a dry sob. He shoves his knuckles at his eyelids, willing the feeling to go away. He’s so  _fucking_  tired of being sad.

Something tickles at his waist. He reaches down to itch at it, fingers closing over a slimy mass.

He yanks his hand back. The ticklish feeling continues on his arms and shoulders, the movement of the symbiote shifting under his clothing making it hard to concentrate on that sleeping thing he’s supposed to be doing.

“What’re you doing?” he says tiredly, closing his eyes when he feels tendrils crawl up his forearms. They form around them in their entirety, but stop short of his wrist, wrapping around it firmly. The symbiote continues to spread across his back, and then stretches up over his shoulders and down past the back of his thighs.

It’s weird. He’d be more bothered by the movement if he wasn’t focused on trying not to be obvious about how he’s crying, to the one person that can tell without a doubt.

Once the symbiote settles, Eddie leans back to try and look, but their head blocks him, having formed by his shoulder at some point. Lying like this, it almost feels like he’s being…held.

 _Eddie,_  the symbiote says,  _why are you sad?_

He doesn’t immediately answer.  

“Dunno,” he whispers. “Lots of things, I guess. Just feel kinda shitty tonight.”

He tries to wipe at his eyes, but the symbiote tugs him back, tendrils tightening around his wrists.

“What are you doing?” Eddie asks again.

_I have seen this before, in your memories. Other humans do it all the time. It’s called a hug._

“A hug,” Eddie repeats dumbly. The tendrils all along his body tighten all at once, and it  _is_  like a hug, although an admittedly weird one.

_This will make you less sad._

Warmth crawls into Eddie’s chest, spreading until he can’t stop the smile splitting his face in two. The symbiote’s teeth brush his ear and he huffs out a tired laugh, twitching away.

“You’re, uh. You’re something else, you know that?”

_Yes. I am not a squishy, sad turd of a human like you._

Eddie’s laughter grows. He wraps his arms around himself and ends up winding the symbiote more firmly around him. It’s almost like pulling a blanket tighter, and because his brain is connected to the symbiote or some shit, they sees the way Eddie is imagining it and crawls further down his chest and over the back of his hands.

It should be weird. Instead, it feels right in a way that Eddie doesn’t fully comprehend.

_You are not sad anymore, Eddie. The hug worked._

They sound proud. Smiling, Eddie smooths his fingers over the tendrils covering the tops of his fingers with his thumb. They harden, forming the something like fleshy fingers, still resting on top of his own.

“Like this,” he mutters, adjusting his fingers so he can thread his through the symbiote’s. They remain still, made unsure by Eddie's unfamiliar gesture, but after a moment he feels them tighten their grip, fingers curling around Eddie's. It’s different; it definitely shouldn’t feel this good, but Eddie is feeling too tired and too content to remember he’s not supposed to be cuddling up to his symbiote like he’s really that pathetic.

_No more feeling sad._

“Can’t promise anything,” he slurs. He feels warm, and his eyelids are heavy as lead, drooping dangerously every few seconds.

 _Maybe not so pathetic,_  Eddie thinks, just before sleep finally pulls him under.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The symbiote learns what masturbation is. Anne discovers the truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your lovely comments <333 And hey, you might have noticed that there are now three chapters instead of two. It ended up being longer than I expected so I decided to break this up into two parts instead of one. Hope you enjoy!!!

“Yeah, talk to you later, Anne. Stay out of trouble, okay? Yeah, yeah, tell the boyfriend he needs to step up his game.” He pauses. “Next time. I’ve got—a thing. You know how it is.”

Eddie lets the phone drop out of his hand and roll onto the bed once the call ends. He lies there silently for the next few seconds.

Dan and Anne keep inviting him over for dinner because they worry about him after the whole Venom thing, and at first, he couldn’t even begin to imagine walking into that place, being surrounded by the warmth of their love where he used to live, but now he recognizes that Dan is good for her.

And Eddie is pretty much over the whole thing at this point (mostly), but he keeps up the lie. A part of him feels guilty; he lied to her in the beginning because he couldn’t handle the thought of trying to explain himself when he felt so tired all the time, but now that things are better, he wants to tell her. He does. It’s just…

Sometimes, he finds himself feeling a tiny bit jealous—of their situation more than anything.

Not that his isn’t pretty good in a lot of ways.

_Eddie._

The symbiote wraps their tendrils around his waist, looping the rest around his legs and chest. They’ve been hugging Eddie to sleep every night since that first time, and Eddie is starting to get addicted to the feeling of being held like that. It’s fuckin’ weird, but it’s also good.

A lot of things are good when it comes to the symbiote, he’s starting to realize.

The symbiote slithers to his side, forming the torso of Venom before tugging him close.

Eddie’s heartrate kicks up a notch. The symbiote knows exactly what they’re doing, even if they don’t perfectly understand why.

 _Eddie,_ they purr, tongue slithering out of their mouth to brush against his cheek. _Eddie, get up. We are hungry._

“ _You’re_ hungry," he retorts. "I’m sleeping.”

 _You were just on the phone with Anne. You can't play games with us, Eddie._  

He ignores them, staring up at the ceiling. The symbiote's face fills his vision and he forces himself not to crack a smile, closing his eyes like he hasn't noticed them. For added effect, he snores. 

 _Eddie,_ _hungry._  A hand wraps around his and starts tugging his arm in the direction of the kitchen. The tongue is back, sliding against the shell of his ear. _Eddie!_

Eddie sputters, shoving his fingers at their tongue. It slithers in between them, coating his fingers in saliva.

"V, that's nasty!" he wipes his hands on his sleep-shirt, scowling. "Get your tongue outta here, man."

_We are hungry._

The symbiote isn't going to stop any time soon, that much he knows, and he's just as starving as his irritating companion, so after making a show of his reluctance Eddie finally scoots to the edge of the bed, pushing the symbiote's head away when they draw close.

“I’ll take even longer to get up if you keep doing that," he says, smiling. "Get away from me. I need a shower.”

He slides off the edge of the bed, stretching his arms high above his head. The symbiote wraps their arms around his shoulders before melting into his body, leaving only a small facsimile of their head remaining.

“Hey, cutie,” Eddie says, knowing it’ll annoy them.

_Hey, loser._

He could take the bait, but he really is grimy. His body runs ridiculously hot now that he’s got the symbiote to take care of, too, which means he’s sweating about ninety percent of the time. The other ten percent is when he’s showering.

After stripping down, he turns on the water, then give it times to heat up while he takes his morning piss. The whole time the symbiote is sliding across his body, pulling tendrils from within him to slap and poke at his skin.

“What is _with_ you today?” Eddie mutters, giving his cock a little shake. “You antsy or somethin’?”

_We like the shower. It feels good._

“I thought you guys hated the warmth.”

_A shower is not like fire, idiot._

“Wow,” Eddie drawls. “I’m the idiot for asking honest questions? Give me a break here.”

 _We like what you like,_ the symbiote says. _It makes you feel good, so it makes us feel good_ _._

“You’ve said that, but I don’t know if I believe it. Where were you when I wanted to eat those ribs the other night? Ribs make me feel pretty good.”

_You ate that on purpose! You know we hate dead meat. Dead meat is disgusting!_

“I did not make myself a nice stack of ribs just to puke it up later,” Eddie argues, yanking aside the shower curtain. He shuffles around the hot spray of water, adjusting it so it goes from blistering to comfortably hot.

_You keep telling yourself that, Eddie._

He sighs, leaning into the spray to get his hair wet.

Showering is one of the few pleasures in life he’ll never tire of. The hot spray of water rushing over his shoulders and easing the aches and pains of the day is pure bliss. Eddie reaches for the bar of soap and starts lathering his loofah, giving it a good squeeze or two before he gets to work.

He gets lost in the motions, mind drifting to all sorts of places while he scrubs his body. It’s when he’s brushing his loofah over the inside of his thigh that he notices his dick getting hard.

He pauses, chewing on his lower lip.

Eddie hasn’t masturbated in front of the symbiote. He didn’t do at first because that was just too fucking weird, and his libido was shot to hell after everything that happened to him, but today, it’s different.  

Things are better. He doesn’t feel like a sack of shit and the sight of his cock rising from the grave to tap impatiently at his stomach is very tempting.

He could ignore it. He probably should ignore it, but then he thinks, why the hell not? It’s his fucking body, symbiote or not, and he hasn’t touched himself in forever _._

Before he can think about it too long, he sets down the loofah and reaches for his cock. He first slides his palm up and down the length as a reminder, then gets into jerking it with quick efficiency, leaning his arm against the shower wall while he gets off. The sharp rush of pleasure and euphoria as he starts getting close rolls over him and he can’t help the pleased sound that erupts from the back of his throat, stilling his movements so it won’t be over too quick.

_Eddie._

Eddie sucks in a sharp breath, shivering.

_We like that. That feels good._

“Fuckin’ hell, man.”

He’s reminded of what the symbiote told him: _It makes you feel good, so it makes us feel good._

He hesitates, taking his hand off his cock. He can physically feel the symbiote watching him, but somehow, instead of unnerving him, his cock gives a pathetic twitch.

_Why did you stop? Keep going!_

“Is it too much to ask for some privacy?” he says half-heartedly.

After a moment of further hesitation, he decides, _fuck it,_ he wanted to jack off, and that’s what he’s going to do, symbiote be damned. He wraps his hand around his cock and gives it a few strokes, paying special attention to the way his foreskin rubs against the head. The symbiote says nothing in reply, so he keeps at it, alternating between stroking himself slowly and pumping it to bring him close before stilling his hand.

There’s something about knowing the symbiote is watching him. Does it get off? How the hell do those things fuck?

He tries to imagine it, but his thoughts slip in a different direction, and then, before he can consider alternatives, he’s imagining the symbiote forming its humanoid self in front of him and taking his cock in hand. Eddie bites back a groan, hips twitching forward. He closes his eyes and tips his head back, forming a tighter ring with his fist.

He both senses and feels when the symbiote starts edging down his arm, tendrils seeking out the fingers wrapped around his cock. His eyes snap open when they brush the sensitive skin on the head of his dick and he looks down to witness the symbiote swallow his hand and replacing it with the fist of Venom.

“What the fuck,” he breathes, arousal hitting him like a punch in the gut.

_Make us feel good, Eddie._

The hand—their hand—isn’t moving. Eddie spares a thought that they might not know what to do, but the fact that they’re trying, that they want to be a part of jerking himself off makes a hysterical laugh bubble in his throat; it transforms into a groan when the symbiote moves their hand, stroking him twice to get him going.

He lets his breath out slowly, quickly changing from pumping his hand over his cock to thrusting into the tight ring of his fist when he realizes how good it feels. Their hand is wet and slippery now, like the inside of a fleshlight, only a thousand times better. He snaps his hips, squeezing his hand around the head of his cock, chasing the sensation for as long as he can.

“Gettin' close,” he warns, not sure why he bothers when the symbiote can already tell. Their awareness is like hard edges in his brain, rising up with him as his pleasure crests.

His thoughts are still on the symbiote and Venom; how muscled Venom is, how fucking good it felt to be them. Reaching behind himself, Eddie rubs his fingers over the tight ring of his hole, imagining Venom pushing his hands aside and shoving their fat cock up his ass, spreading him wide.

Just when he thinks he’s about to come, he feels the symbiote’s tentacles slip in between his fingers, brushing up against his hole before pushing _inside._

“Holy shit,” he breathes, arching his back. “Shit, Shit, _fuck.”_

 _You like this,_ they say smugly, and Eddie chokes on a laugh. _Should we stop?_

It doesn’t hurt, and the sensation of the tentacle filling him completely, touching on every single nerve inside him is almost too much to handle.

“Don’t. Just keep—” He rolls his hips into his fist as the tentacle rubs up against his prostate, grinding on it. The pleasure is razor-sharp and hot, and for a split-second, Eddie feels so good he isn’t sure he can even come. He just keeps stroking his cock, working himself back uselessly on the tentacles writhing in his ass.

When he comes, his throat constricts, his moan coming out like a needy whine. His toes curl, and he leans back against the shower wall, shooting come onto his chest and stomach. It’s washed away within seconds, and he keeps stroking his cock roughly, squeezing out the last dredges of pleasure.

“Holy shit,” he says, once he's finished. He closes his eyes, shivering when the tentacles slip out of his ass and sink back into his skin. He feels a bit like he could collapse.

He can hear a rumbling sort of sound coming from the symbiote, like a hum, or a low purr, and then the symbiote speaks.

_Eddie, let’s do that again._

He chuckles at the empty air. “Can’t. Not yet, at least. Though I gotta say: best orgasm I’ve had in a while.”

There’s a flash of pride, and then smug satisfaction.

_Later, we do that again._

Eddie smiles, deciding that this is just one more area he can add to the list of things that the symbiote has improved by being a part of his life.

* * *

Improvements or not, the symbiote is still learning. Eddie tries to be a diligent teacher, but he's never been cut out for it. 

It doesn't help that the symbiote is a curious creature. Particularly as it relates to humans, and they always seem to raise questions at the worst possible times. Eddie is almost certain they do it on purpose, making concerted efforts to fluster him as often as possible.

_Eddie. Why do humans keep trying to reproduce with themselves?_

“It’s called masturbation,” Eddie says without thinking.

Anne’s fork lowers from where it’s hovering in front of her mouth and she looks at Eddie with wide eyes. Dan starts choking on his drink.

“Excuse me?”

“Mastur—mastication!” he all but shouts, lightly tapping his closed fist against the table to keep from slamming it into his face. “I meant mastication. Sorry, I was just thinkin’ out loud, y’know? I do that sometimes.”

“Right,” Anne trails off, shooting Dan a look. “Are you sure you’re feeling okay? You seem _distracted.”_

There’s something peculiar and pointed about the way she says it, but he doesn’t feel up to parsing through her meaning, especially if it means what he thinks it means.

The symbiote has been doing this all damn night, raising questions that have no business in this kind of setting when they know that Eddie is trying to make a good impression after all the lying and avoiding he's been doing. Now he's wondering if coming here was a mistake: there's an undercurrent of some kind of emotion running through the symbiote. It feels a bit like jealousy, or maybe envy, but he can't be certain if that's just him and his owned messed up feelings for the two of them.

He hasn't told Anne about Venom yet, and he isn’t sure he’s ready to. He’s not sure he’ll _ever_ be ready to; he’s hurt her enough, and adding a long-standing lie onto that isn’t helping any. Just sitting there Eddie feels guilty, shoving pieces of tender steak into his mouth like he’s enjoying any of it.

All in all, he _likes_ Dan, and he knows he’s good for her. A part him is just jealous of their relationship, and as a side-effect, he doesn’t want to share news of the symbiote’s return.

It’s childish, but this is the first thing that feels like _his_ in a long time, and he’s not ready to give that up just yet.

_I only ask because you keep thinking about it. About us._

“I’m great!” Eddie declares. It's moments like these he wishes the symbiote could read his mind. As it stands, all he can do it project images of him stabbing himself in hopes they'll get the picture. “Just can’t wait to masticate more of this steak. Mm.”

Anne stares at him for a moment longer before turning to her own food, cutting the steak into thin slices before bringing them to her mouth.

 _I am thinking about it, too._ His shirt shifts as tendrils loop around his chest, squeezing him. _Let’s leave and go masturbate._

“Are you serious right now?”

Shit. _Fuck._ He needs to stop doing that. He’s been talking to the symbiote out loud so much lately that it’s just reflex at this point.

“What is it?” Dan looks at him. “Is it your steak? Is it underdone?” He frowns. “Anne said you liked it pretty rare.”

“That’s what you said on the phone,” Anne says. “That you wanted a really rare steak.”

“No, the steak is great. I was just—” Eddie waves his fork, trying to come up with a plausible explanation, “thinking how amazing this is. Like, are you serious? This steak is _so_ good.”

“So you’ve said.” Anne sighs, setting down her fork. “Eddie, you know you can tell me anything, right?” She lays her hand on Dan’s arm. “You can tell _us_ anything.”

 _She suspects something,_ the symbiote says.

Eddie barely resists responding outright. He forks more steak into his mouth, shifting his gaze between the two the them. Then he shrugs, looking down at his plate.

_Do not tell her, Eddie._

“I don’t have anything going on right now," Eddie says. "So there’s not much to tell you.”

“Eddie.” Anne reaches out and places her hand on his, smiling gently. “You know what I mean. I’m not going to make you admit to anything you don't want to, but I want you to know—”

_Do not say anything to her!_

“—I’m here for you. I know things have been hard on you. You have your new job—”

_She will not understand. Keep your mouth shut._

“—you’re still in that old apartment for some reason, even though I told you I’d help—”

Eddie’s fist tightens around his knife. The symbiote is so _loud,_ roaring in his head and drowning out all the sound around him.

“—and after everything that happened, nobody can blame you for feeling like you do…Eddie?”

_She will try and separate us! She will take us away! We will not let that happen._

“Eddie, are you okay? Your knife—”

 _You are_ mine!

“Will you shut _up?!”_ he explodes, bursting out of his seat. Anne and Dan both gasp, and Eddie whirls on them, holding out his hand. “Not you guys! Not you, it’s—oh, shit.”

He realizes his mistake too late and buries his head in his hands. Anne shoves her seat back and stands with him, pointing her finger at his chest.

“I knew it!” she shouts. “I knew he was back. I knew you were lying to me!”

“I-It’s not what you think!” Eddie exclaims, holding both hands up like a shield. There's no reason to panic; he can still save the situation from becoming a disaster.

While he's considering his next move, the symbiote flares up inside him, ignited with righteous anger, and Eddie barely has the chance to shout, “no!” before they’re bursting from his back, black gooey tendrils curling around his neck and shoulders aggressively. To make matters worse, they reveals themselves to the two of them in the form of a floating head, grinning at them with razor sharp teeth.

Anne gapes. She looks like she wants to scream.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Look, I—I couldn’t tell you,” Eddie says, lowering his voice. Dan is by the far wall, terrified. Last time the symbiote revealed itself around them both, Eddie nearly choked him to death. “We were just hurt, and I was—I was tired, okay? I didn’t want to deal with all the questions.”

“So you’ve been living with it inside you? Letting it _eat_ you?”

“I’m fine!” he insists, trying to keep calm. The symbiote has no such qualms.

 _“You have no say in what we do with Eddie’s organs,”_ they spit, curling their tongue tightly around his jaw. Eddie jerks his head away while Anne squeals, waving her hands like she’s just touched something disgusting. _“He is mine!”_

“Get back in me!” Eddie shouts, grabbing the sides of their head to pull them down. Dan snorts, and then looks like he can’t believe he made the sound. “You said you'd behave!”

 _“If she thinks she will take you away from me, then I will_ persuade _her otherwise.”_

“Oh my god, be _quiet—”_

“Would somebody please tell me what’s going on?” Dan says, hands slipping down the wall he’s leaning against. “I thought it was dead.”

_“We are not—”_

“Enough!” Anne slams her fist against the table. “You—” she points at the symbiote, “quiet. Eddie, living room. Now. We’re sitting down and having a talk.”

* * *

“They are _harmless,”_ Eddie insists, “really.”

“I still don’t know if I believe you,” Anne says, leaning back in her chair. “I get that you think it—they—are harmless, but they devoured your organs. Your heart was _failing,_ Eddie.”

_I would never hurt you, Eddie. Hurting you hurts us. That is all in the past._

Eddie has been trying to explain the current situation to her for half an hour now, but they keep going in circles. She understood his pain when she thought they were dead, but now that she knows the symbiote is alive, she isn’t so keen on seeing him live within Eddie.

“They didn’t understand. Trust me, Anne, I know. I know more than anyone the kind of shit this could get me into, but we’ve got—” Eddie licks his lips. “We’ve got boundaries.”

“Boundaries,” she repeats.

“And listen.” He holds up a hand, stopping her from saying any more. “I know…that this is scary,” he says slowly, choosing his words with care. “I like to think you’re doing all this huffin’ and puffin’ because you care about me.”

“Of course I do. I wouldn't call being concerned for your well-being 'huffing and puffing', Eddie.”

“But,” he continues, “At the end of the day…they need me, Anne. They need me to live. I can't just abandon them! And, if we're being honest, I—I kinda need them.”

It really hurts to see Anne look at him like he's some kind of traitor and a liar, because the situation is more complicated than that. She just doesn't  _understand._ Hell, he barely understands, but he just knows that this is something he needs. He can’t explain why. Trying to do that would be like trying to explain why he needs his left leg. Sure, he could go on without it, but it wouldn’t be the same, and he would struggle. 

“They don’t eat people anymore.” Technically. “Chocolate and tater tots and a bunch of other stuff do it for them. I’m not eating people, I swear.”

Anne looks away, her expression pinched. She doesn’t look comfortable sitting there, particularly what with the way that the symbiote has been hovering above Eddie’s head, staring at the two of them threateningly the entire time.

“V, you gotta stop doing that,” Eddie says, for the umpteenth time. “It’s creeping everybody out.”

_We do not mind._

“V?” Anne says, raising an eyebrow. Eddie flushes, scratching his cheek with his finger. He decides to address the symbiote first.

“Yeah, yeah, well the rest of us don’t want to see you hanging up there like a weirdo. Come on, get back in my body.” He waits, and when the symbiote doesn’t move, he yanks their head down and shoves it at his shoulder until they dissipate, grumbling the entire way.

Once that’s settled, he looks back at Anne. She returns his gaze, blinking at him like she doesn’t recognize the person she’s looking at.

“You have pet names for each other?” she asks. It’s more of a sneer.

“No, it’s just—they don’t have a name, so I figured I could come up with something. V for Venom,” he adds weakly, hoping it won’t sound as damning as he suspects it does.

This was not how he imagined this going. Granted, he was hoping this wouldn’t ever happen, honestly, but they’re here now. And a part of him is glad they’re getting it over with and not waiting years into the future, assuming he never worked up the nerve.

“Look, I...I’m sorry, Anne. I should’ve told you,” he says miserably, shoving his hands in between his knees. Thankfully, the symbiote stays quiet and doesn't distract him for once, but Eddie can feel their discontent, lurking underneath his skin and inside him, making his anxiety worse. He hunches further over the edge of the couch, trying to make himself as non-threatening as physically possible.

Anne sighs wearily and leans her head back, tipping it up towards the ceiling.

“Eddie, why do you care if I approve of your…relationship?” she asks. “Why are you trying to convince me?”

“I care about you,” he replies. “You and Dan. You’re good people. I don’t wanna lose that.”

Anne is silent for a while. Then, she lifts her head and looks at him like she’s seeing him for the first time. He wonders what she’s noticed.

“Okay,” she says quietly. “I understand. I don’t necessarily approve, but I understand.”

“Really? Anne, thank you,” Eddie says, pressing his hands against his chest gratefully. “You know I would never hurt anyone. And V’s learning too. They’re good now.”

_You know what would be good, Eddie? If you let us eat them. Then this would be much easier and you wouldn't have to care about what they think._

“Shut up. Not you!” he says, when Anne goes to speak. “Sorry, just: will you be quiet? I’m trying to defend you and you’re gonna say shit like that? You don’t mean that, so don’t even pretend to act all tough.”

“Eddie,” she starts, then stops. She exchanges a glance with Dan, who shrugs. “Eddie...I think you should go.”

“No, Anne, wait—”

“It’s okay.” She smiles, moving to stand and walk towards the end of the room. Eddie rises to follow, but she stills him with a hand, using the other to brush her hair behind her ear. She shrugs. “I’m just tired, and I’ve got some work to do."

"Anne, please."

"I just need some time," she says. "You've been lying to me. I suspected it before you told me, but knowing is different from _knowing._ " She turns to look at him, a small smile on her face. "We _are_ going to do this again, Eddie, but I just think we both need a break. At least for tonight.”

“Yeah, okay." Eddie rubs his arm with his hand, staring at the ground. "I understand.”

He doesn’t, but he needs to pretend he does, because he won’t lose Anne again. If it just takes time, he can deal with that. Time is easy; he’s got nothing _but_ time.

“Thank you for coming to dinner, Eddie,” Dan says, speaking up for the first time in a while. He tugs on his collar nervously, but he looks like he’s trying. “And tell your…friend that I appreciate it not trying to choke me.”

Eddie nods, and then shuffles around the room, making sure he has his wallet and keys before he finally leaves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know in the movie Anne was pretty chill about the whole thing, but I think realistically she would not be happy knowing Venom is back. Got a lil' angsty at the end but dw, angst isn't really my style so it won't last.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for reading and leaving your lovely comments (and kudos!). I appreciate you all. Mwah. Hope you enjoy.

Eddie is mostly silent on the way home. The walk to his apartment is long, but not unbearably so, and he needs the fresh air now more than ever.

_You are angry at us._

“I’m not talking about this right now,” he says. “Wait until we’re home.”

 _I still think we should eat them both,_ the symbiote says. Eddie thinks it’s supposed to be a joke, but he’s far post joking.

He comes to an abrupt stop, curling his hands into fists, and barely resists the urge to scream at the top of his lungs.

“Fine, then we _will_ talk. First of all, what is _wrong_ with you?!” he says, shoving his phone at his ear for cover. “What is your issue? Why were you acting like that?”

Silence. He can’t really tell what they’re feeling, which is likely for the best, because he’s pissed.

“You like Anne,” he continues. “I know you do. You bonded with her or whatever, and you were all gung-ho about us getting back together. But now you’re talking about _eating_ her and Dan?”

_Eddie—_

“No, you listen to me. You don’t get to threaten my friends like that whenever you feel like it. I could’ve handled it. I _was_ handling it.”

_Eddie._

Eddie can feel the symbiote coming out of his back and shoulders, forming the head that he’s gotten so used to seeing. It’s times like these, when talking face-to-face benefits both parties—whether they’re having a discussion or plain old arguing—but this time Eddie doesn’t want to see it. He scrubs his hand over his face, turning away.

“Shut up. Seriously. God, I hope Anne will still talk to me after this.”

_Eddie, listen—_

“Just get back inside me, okay? Fuck.” He laughs, but it’s void of humor. “Maybe she was right about all this.”

The words coming out of his mouth are a complete lie; he doesn’t think Anne was right at all, but he’s pissed, and he knows how much this means to the symbiote, so the words flow free, slicing through his chest even as he says them.

“Maybe she was right, and I should’ve just—”

_I did not want her to take us away!_

The symbiote roars in his head and out in the open, releasing a flow of anguish that has Eddie flinching away the moment it echoes between them. It’s a mixture of agony, confusion, and a little bit of heartache, too, but he can’t tell if that’s just from him.

A part of why he’s so angry is because he feels the same way they do. Thinking about a scenario where they’re torn apart _hurts,_ and he’d do anything to avoid that.

“I know!” Eddie snaps, shoving his fists at the wall, like he can move it through sheer force of will. It’s a silly, futile effort, but it feels good, so he does it again. “I know that! That’s why I was trying to handle it! You think I want you gone? Huh?”

 _You do not,_ the symbiote says immediately. _And we don’t want to leave._

“Exactly. _Exactly._ I don’t want you gone! But I can’t do this if you’re just going to ignore me.”

Eddie looks over. They stare at each other for a moment. Eddie is the only one out of the two of them breathing hard, because he’s the fragile human infecting his symbiote with all this emotional bullshit, but even so, he can still read the tension in the lines on the symbiote’s face; he can feel it inside himself.

He sighs.

“This is why I didn’t want do this here,” he mutters, looking away and scratching at the back of his head. “Fuck, man, you’re an alien. You probably don’t even understand half the stuff that was going on in there.”

_I understand why you are angry with us. With me._

“I thought you liked Anne,” Eddie says. “What happened to wanting her back?”

_We want what you want. You no longer desire her, so I don’t either._

“But you _like_ her. As a person, or as—as a bond or whatever.”

There’s a long pause where the symbiote says nothing. Then:

_It’s not that simple. I liked her in the memories she shared with you. I don’t know her like I know you. We were not a perfect match; not like you are, Eddie._

“Perfect?” Eddie asks, before he can help it. “I mean, I know I’m compatible, but I don’t know if I’d say perfect.”

_You are perfect. Perfect and mine._

That should be creepy, coming from someone that nearly destroyed him from the inside out. It isn’t.

“Perfect. Huh.” Eddie is glad that the air is cool, so his face won’t look so red. It’s just too bad his embarrassment can be read like an open book on the inside. Thankfully, the symbiote says nothing about it, so Eddie shuffles up against the wall and leans on it.

It’s times like these that he wishes he could impress upon the symbiote the intricacies of human interpretation. Perfection is unreachable and implies so much more than what Eddie has been called his entire life, which is ‘good enough’ or ‘all right’. He’s never been perfect; not for anyone, and the fact that the symbiote means it whole-heartedly makes his chest feel warm.

“I shouldn’t’ve yelled at you.” Eddie waves his hand, encouraging the symbiote to come closer. “You know I didn't mean that. So c’mere.”

They don’t move, hovering just a few feet away. Eddie can’t parse the complex knot of emotions roiling inside them and he feels a little bad, so he takes the single step that brings him into close contact, pulling their head forward to look them in the eye.

“You didn’t want to possibly lose this,” Eddies says quietly. “I get that, ‘cause I feel the same way.”

He presses their foreheads together, trying to communicate all his understanding through touch alone. A part of him wishes they were Venom, so they could hug it out for real, and because they’re connected, the symbiote does it without having to ask, slowly bringing black coils together until he’s face-to-face with Venom’s gargantuan chest.

They pull him into an embrace, just the way he’s imagining it, only with a tad too much force. It leaves Eddie wheezing against his chest, pushing back on it until he’s given room to breathe.

“Not so hard.” He laughs quietly, moving his hands to the symbiote’s thick waist.

 _We like hugs,_ they say, cocking their head. _I like hugging you, Eddie._

“Yeah, well, I like it, too. ‘S a little weird when there’s only half of you, though.”

They stand there for a moment, and Eddie considers the fact that this is strangest thing he’s ever done: hugging his symbiote in the middle of a dark neighborhood street, only a few blocks away from his ex-girlfriend’s house.

Before he can think about it for much longer, the symbiote pulls him close again, and the second time is much better. His unease is washed away, and he presses his cheek against the symbiote’s chest with a soft sigh, reveling in the warmth of their body.

He smiles when he feels them lean down to rub their teeth and tongue against the top of his head.

“That’s gross, you know that?”

_Liar. We don’t think it’s gross. You think about my mouth. You want me to use it more._

Eddie pulls back, blinking rapidly, and then looks around, glad that there isn’t anyone down the quiet street.

“I don’t—” He stops. Thinking about the symbiote’s prehensile tongue and all the ways he’s been imagining using it isn’t conducive to anything at that moment, so he elects to ignore it. “Hey, why don’t we get some ice cream on the way back home? My treat,” he adds, as if it isn’t always coming out of his pocket. “I know a place.”

 _We love ice cream,_ the symbiote says, perking up. Their mouth stretches into an even wider grin. _Don’t skimp out on the chocolate._

“Trust me, I wouldn’t dream of it.”

* * *

Eddie can’t stop thinking about what the symbiote said. There are a lot of things he’s started thinking about, but the thing about the tongue is bothering him.

“What is the point of having a tongue that long?” Eddie asks in the middle of an episode of Judge Judy.

He hasn’t been paying attention for the last ten minutes, and he’s not certain the symbiote is either. They like television, like any sentient being that gets bored, but they’re picky about what shows they like. They have an affinity for game shows, maybe because watching humans scramble to try and win something is amusing. Hell, Eddie thinks it’s amusing and _he’s_ human.

 _There are many uses,_ the symbiote says. They’re resting on Eddie’s shoulder, a tiny-headed version that is undeniably cute. _I can use it to suck out the organs of many lifeforms. It’s not as useful on humans._

Eddie opens his mouth. Closes it.

“Okay,” he says, “that’s messed up. I regret asking.”

He turns back to the television and they sit in a companionable silence. After a while, the symbiote suddenly moves away from him, growing to their regular size.

_Do you?_

Eddie turns his head to shoot them a puzzled look, but his eyes inevitably stray back to the television. Judge Judy is about to give her verdict.

“Do I what?”

_Do you regret asking? You keep thinking about it. About us._

Eddie licks his lips. His eyes shift to the symbiote’s tongue sliding wetly over their teeth.

“Pfft, no I’m not. Why would I think about that? That’s…”

The symbiote moves in front of him, hundreds of tentacles slowly forming the body of Venom over his lap. Once their muscles arms are formed, they plant them on Eddie’s shoulders, seemingly only for the purpose of looming over him and then licking a hot stripe up the side of his face.

“…disgusting,” Eddie finishes, more breathlessly than he intends.

 _Eddie,_ they purr, _let’s masturbate. You said we could later. It’s later now._

“Masturbating isn’t a sex act between two people, you know,” Eddie says. He puts his hand on the symbiote’s chest, intending to push him away, but he ends up running his fingers over his pecs. “Holy shit, you are beefy.”

_We like it._

Eddie removes his hand. The symbiote’s tongue is hanging between them still, and he stares it until it disappears into their mouth. While he’s been distracted, the symbiote has been working at his clothes, pushing his shirt up using thick, fat tentacles, while smaller ones pry at his pants.

_Eddie._

They push their mouth to the side of his face. Eddie is always running hot these days, but with the symbiote pressed up against his body, he’s even warmer. He can feel sweat building at the center of his back _._

_Eddie, do it now._

He turns his head to speak to the symbiote, and ends up catching his lips on their tongue. He instinctively flinches away from the unfamiliar feeling, but the symbiote surges forward, pressing their tongue clumsily against his lips.

 _Gross,_ Eddie’s mind supplies, but his body has other ideas. His hands move before he’s given it a second thought, grabbing the sides of the symbiote’s face to hold them still. He presses a kiss at the corner of his mouth, strangely unbothered by the slippery texture. It’s almost like wet rubber, and when the symbiote freezes, Eddie smiles, pressing another kiss on the same spot.

“Okay, fine. You wanna do this? Close your, uh, lips over your teeth. God, why are your teeth so big anyway?”

_To protect you._

That is not the answer he’s expecting. Eddie frowns, brushing his thumb against the upper row of teeth. He really should be terrified by the sight of that face, but fuck him, he’s actually turned on.

“Protect me? What, the rest of you isn’t enough? You needed giant teeth?”

 _It makes eating food easier,_ the symbiote adds, after a moment. _Are we masturbating or not?_

“Just say we’re having sex,” Eddie says. Immediately after the symbiote’s amusement floods his mind.

_You cannot reproduce with me, Eddie._

“I know.” Eddie rolls his eyes. “Sex is about having a good time. We’re not gonna be having alien babies anytime soon. Just—trust me. And close your lips over those big teeth.”

The symbiote does as he says. The teeth shrink, and then their lips—or whatever the seam of their mouth is called, since they’re not all that much like lips—press together. They look much less threatening without the teeth.

There’s a flicker of understanding that comes from the symbiote when Eddie kisses the center of their mouth.

_We are kissing._

Eddie puts his hands on either side of the symbiote’s face. At first, he moves his mouth the way he knows works on humans, but with the symbiote sitting there, unresponsive, it’s just plain weird.

The understanding transforms into confusion.

 _This is different than it was with Anne._

Eddie snorts against their mouth.

Maybe it’s because Anne’s no longer there to guide them that they don’t know to do. Or maybe it’s because Eddie keeps thinking about those teeth and that tongue, but he told the symbiote to keep them out of the way.

 _Maybe we should stick to what we did before,_ he thinks, just as the symbiote’s mouth opens. Eddie has a single second to prepare himself before his lips are forced apart by their thick, long tongue. They thrust the entire thing between his lips, shoving it inside his mouth mercilessly.

Eddie’s instincts scream at him to bite down; he barely resists, keeping his mouth open against the intrusion. It’s big and wet, sliding against his teeth and brushing the roof of his mouth.

His cock throbs.

The symbiote pushes their tongue into the back of his throat and Eddie opens his mouth wider, shoving his palm at his crotch.

 _You are enjoying this,_ the symbiote says smugly.

Eddie’s eyelids flutter shut. He focuses on breathing through the pressure at his throat. It’s like having a dick in his mouth, only the dick is exploring every inch like it’s trying to own him. With his eyes closed, he almost doesn’t notice the tendrils crawling up his neck until they spread across the back of his head, holding him still while the symbiote pushes his tongue deeper.

Eddie’s eyes water, and he starts to choke; that’s when the symbiote pulls out of his mouth slowly, leaving behind a heavy trail of saliva. Eddie wipes his mouth with the hem of his shirt, momentarily at a loss for words.

“That was weird.”

_It was good. Let me do it again._

Eddie seriously considers it. He’s sweating now, his cock fully hard in his pants, and the sultry roll of the symbiote’s devastatingly deep voice isn’t helping.

 _Come on, Eddie,_ they say, rumbling with a strange sort of energy. Eddie wonders if it’s their version of arousal. _Let’s have sex._

“I’m not doing this on the couch,” Eddie says, rubbing his jaw with his hand. He glances at the television. “Not in front of Judge Judy.”

Reaching for and lifting the remote, Eddie turns of the television. Then he sits there for a minute, trying to tell himself that this isn’t weird; that he can masturbate, or have sex, or do whatever gets him off because his symbiote is hooked on the feeling, just like he is.

Decided, Eddie walks over to his bedroom and then sits at the edge of the bed. Tendrils start tugging at his shirt; he shivers at the feeling of them sliding against his skin, helping him along. Normally they feel like an extension of his body, but now there’s something different about them.

He makes a soft sound as one of the large ones brushes his nipples, wriggling in ineffective eagerness to help lift his shirt up and over his head. He’s barely finished tossing it aside when he feels tentacles tease at the curve of his ass, trying to push his pants down.

“Hold your horses, would you?”

Eddie pulls his pants off, with his underwear soon to follow. Once he’s naked, he sits up and carefully considers his situation.

He’s naked, sitting on his bed, ready to masturbate, except—

“Wait, why did I get naked for this?”

_That is how human reproduction works. You are always naked._

It’s…close enough. Deciding it’s more convenient this way, Eddie shifts back onto his pillow and spreads his legs, running his fingers over his thighs to start drawing back on his earlier arousal. His cock is softer now, but after a few quick tugs it thickens, filling out his hand in easy strokes. He starts slow, just getting the feel of it, and then works in the tricks that he knows gets him there fast.

While he jerks himself off, he thinks about how fucking weird it is that he’s in this situation. The symbiote is inside him, but he can feel them watching, anticipating the good feeling that they’ve been craving.

It’s almost _too_ strange. He’s nearly taken out of the headspace, so he changes gears and focuses on things he finds arousing. He thinks about the last porno he watched. It was good, because the couple had been really into it, but after a bit he realizes it isn’t really doing it for him. His mind keeps wandering, thoughts leading him in the direction of the symbiote again. That tentacle up his ass in the shower—that had been amazing.

He slides his free hand underneath his thigh, inching towards his ass. Then he reaches for his nightstand drawer, intent on grabbing his lube, before it occurs to him that he doesn’t need it.

Why does he need lube if he’s got a symbiote built into him?

He recoils from the thought, disgusting with himself. Is that depraved that he would resort to using the symbiote just for that?

 _Is it really using?_ a voice offers. _They're willing, and you're willing._

“Hey,” Eddie starts, his voice rough. He moves his hand again, pausing to rub his thumb against the slit and smear his precome around, making the slide a little easier. “Those things of yours. Tentacles or whatever. Can you always do stuff like that?”

_Stuff like what?_

“You know, what you did…in the shower the other night.”

_You mean this._

Eddie jerks in place when he feels a slick tendril tease at his entrance.

“Yeah,” he breathes. Swallows. “That.”

The symbiote shoves the tentacle inside him, so quickly that Eddie shudders, toes wriggling in the sheets.

“Wait, wait, not so fast!” He conjures up images of what he wants the symbiote to do, reaching down instinctively to demonstrate, pressing his fingers alongside them around his hole. “Go a little slower.”

The tentacle withdraws and then rises up past his knees, perhaps for his benefit more than anything, because he gets to watch as it splits into multiple, coiling black tentacles before diving back down to rub in and around his rim. He can’t see what they’re doing, but he can feel the way they’re exploring his skin, sliding wetly in some places, and sticking firmly to others.

Eddie spreads his thighs a little further, holding them apart with his hands. He lets out his breath slowly, hips twitching when he feels it finally push inside his hole. There’s zero resistance, and the symbiote slowly thickens the tendrils inside him, wasting no time in rubbing them up against every nerve.

It feels fucking amazing. Eddie’s always liked taking it up the ass, and it’s impossible to describe how much he’s enjoying just how deep the symbiote can go, reaching inside him like it’s nothing.

Eddie lets out a quiet, contented moan, but it turns into a whine when they pull out, moving back to brushing up against his holy teasingly.

“C’mon,” he says, leaning his head back against the pillows. “Come on, V.”

_You said you wanted me to go slowly._

The symbiote pushes in again, thickening once more. Then, before Eddie can even think about how good it feels, they start pulling out again, only this time, they don’t shrink; they stay nice and big, stretching his hole past the point of comfort.

“Oh god.” Eddie has stopped jerking himself off at some point. He’s got both hands planted on his thighs, hips shifting back and forth restlessly, like he has any control over what the symbiote is doing.

It reminds him of it all started, when he had no control over what he did that first night, tossed around like the symbiote’s own chew toy. He licks his lips, hands twitching along is thighs when he thinks about the way the symbiote was able to move him around so easily, like an afterthought.

The lack of control had been terrifying, but underneath all that terror there was a small, teeny tiny part of him that had been turned on.

“Hey, V,” he says again. There’s an elongated pause where Eddie can tell they’re listening. He opens his mouth, but the words won’t come, so instead of saying it, he imagines the symbiote using their tentacles to bind his wrists and attach them to the headboard.

He shudders when he feels something warm and wet wrap around his wrists in reply.

 _Eddie._ They sound cautious, but he can tell they are very, very interested. _You said you did not like losing control._

“This is…different. You’re not controlling me, you’re just…”

He gasps when his arms are pulled high above his head. Not because they’re being controlled, but his wrists were pulled up by the tentacles binding them. They’re attached directly to the top of the headboard, and when he tests the binds, there’s a little give, but it’s not much.

The symbiote starts moving inside his ass again, writhing, pushing and pressing in. With his hands bound, it’s a completely different ballgame. He tugs reflexively at his wrists, but he’s rendered nearly immobile.

When they press into his prostate, his back bows, legs stretching out in front of him. Eddie doesn’t even realize he’s squirming until two large tendrils wrap around his knees and shoot up to the ceiling, holding his legs aloft. They’re not too high that it hurts or strains him in any way, but he can’t move.

“Shit,” he hisses, pulling harder on his bounds and lifting his ass off the bed. He feels the mass around his wrists and legs tighten, and then what little give he had is completely taken away.

Eddie breathes out a slow, shuddering breath. He's so turned on he doesn’t even think he could handle touching his dick if he wanted to.

He barely notices that the symbiote is hovering above him now, having morphed into the floating head he’s gotten so used to seeing. His eyes snap to the thick, black tendrils sliding up his thighs, rising and forming tight coils in the air, twirling and twisting, moving to combine with the head into the thickly corded upper body of Venom.

_Eddie._

“Fuck,” Eddie breathes. The symbiote starts to form between his thighs, pushing Eddie’s legs up towards his chest with how big he is. “Fuck, has anyone ever told you you’re huge?”

 _You like it when we’re big._ Venom’s hands go for his knees, spreading his legs wide. _You want us to be bigger all over you. Inside you._

Eddie squeezes his eyes shut. For a second, he thinks he’s about to lose it then and there, but it's just fat beads of precome that slide down his cock. All that comes out of his mouth is a strangled groan. 

_You are thinking about so many things I can’t tell what you want me to do to you. Tell me, Eddie._

The symbiote’s hands sink into his skin, and they press up against his groin, spreading their mass across his thighs and around his aching cock, close, but refusing to touch.

_What do you want?_

“Fuck me,” he blurts. The symbiote cocks their head. “Uh, get—get inside me. Do what you were doing before, just—” he whines in the back of his throat, pulling on his bindings. His wrists don’t hurt, but his arms ache, a pleasant burn that adds to his arousal. “Come on, V, come _on.”_

He doesn’t have to wait long. Eddie’s impatience bleeds into the symbiote’s, so they don’t waste time in pushing inside him, stuffing his ass full of a few thick tendrils.

Eddie moans weakly as huge, meaty hands tug him close to the lower half of the symbiote’s body. Their hands morph back into tentacles that wrap around his waist and crawl up his chest, looping around and around, tightening, giving him more of that held, helpless feeling that drives him crazy.

The symbiote starts thrusting, and the movement shocks a sharp cry out of Eddie as he’s pushed back against the pillows. He doesn’t think the symbiote needs to move to fuck him, but they must know—they _have_ to know how much Eddie likes the thought of being fucked by something so big; something that could break him.

They rock into him, some of the thicker tentacles thrusting into his ass while others wrap around his cock, sliding up and down the length.

“Oh _fuck,_ stop,” Eddie says, and it turns into a sob when the tentacles tease at the sensitive part of his head, rubbing up against it. He feels like he’s about to come, but he can’t do anything other than yank on at his bindings, trying to hold back through sheer willpower alone. “Oh god, ‘m gonna come. Please, V, _please.”_

A sense of understanding flashes through his head and then the tentacles abruptly retreat.

_That feels good, but you want it to last. Then it will feel better. We will feel even better._

Eddie slumps back against the pillows, chest heaving. He’s sweating fiercely, and he feels overwhelmed, but he loves it. He’s a little terrified just how much he loves it.

“V,” he tries, but it comes out as a throaty moan when the tentacles in his ass thicken and pulse, sliding in and out, fucking him deeper than any real cock ever could. He feels so fucking full, and the constant, intense pressure on his prostate is driving wave after wave of pleasure rolling over him.

“V,” he says again, managing it in between groans. “You’ve gotta—god, I’m goin’ crazy here. That feels so fucking good.”

The symbiote’s mass has spread all across his legs and his waist, clinging to his skin, rubbing up against every part of him. Eddie can’t seem to focus.

 _Eddie, you feel good. We feel so good,_ the symbiote purrs, leaning over to lick the side of Eddie’s face. A wave of hunger rolls over him and Eddie squirms, his mouth watering. _You are mine, Eddie._ Mine.

It’s a different kind of hunger, tinged with their combined arousal, but it’s undeniable that the symbiote wants to eat him.

Eddie shudders, moaning up at the ceiling. He can’t move, he can’t fucking do _anything,_ so if the symbiote decided to eat him, there’d be nothing he could do. Even though in the back of his mind he knows they would never do that, it still makes heat flood his hips, driving him that much closer.

His body feels like a live wire, and when the symbiote starts kissing him, Eddie leans up to return it, lips parting greedily, accepting the tongue they shove in his mouth.

 _You are mine,_ they declare, pushing their tongue down his throat. Eddie tries to breathe through it, but he’s trembling from the assault on body and in his ass. He feels completely overwhelmed, so, so close to coming that the symbiote fucks him harder in response, stuffing him so full he knows he’s going to feel sore later. Then, when he thinks he can't feel any more turned on, they send a wave of black curling and coiling around his cock, working it from all sides. That’s when Eddie can’t take it anymore.

His scream is muffled by the tongue in his mouth. He yanks on his bindings, coming so hard that he loses all sense of time and awareness. He’s vaguely aware of the symbiote making a deep, low sound in his head, like their version of a groan. He comes for what feels like an eternity, trembling, twitching with aftershocks, and when they finally release him, his arms and legs flop gracelessly to the bed.  

_That was very good, Eddie._

Eddie is completely spent and so fucking far gone that he can’t even formulate his own thoughts properly, so he just lies there, panting. Eventually he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

“Holy shit,” he croaks, once he finds his voice. “Holy fuck. You are amazing.” He raises his arm, wincing when it throbs, and wipes his hand down his face. “Fuck.”

 _That was all you,_ the symbiote says. It’s like an accusation, but the pride and happiness emanating from them softens the blow. Eddie chuckles, sitting up to look down at himself.

He’s expecting to see some sort of mess, so when he finds that his cock is completely clean, he makes a sound, touching along the length just to be sure. It’s soft, so something clearly happened.

“I came, right?” Maybe he was really that out of it.

_Yes, you did. I absorbed it into my body._

“You did _what?”_ Eddie makes a face, wrinkling his nose. “Gross, dude. Isn’t that like _me_ eating it?”

_You didn’t even notice. You will survive._

“Right. Okay, new rule. No eating my jizz,” he raises his finger, “even if it’s convenient. If it was another guy’s, that’d be one thing, but it’s mine, and that’s gross. I don’t want to think about throwing up right after sex.”

The symbiote does their version on an eyeroll, crouching over Eddie’s legs, still in their big and beefy form. Eddie grins up at them, and when he thinks about it, he wonders if cuddling up to them would feel as good as he’s imagining. He’s always been a cuddler when it comes to sex, but he supposes the symbiote wouldn’t care one way or the other.

“You hungry?” Eddie asks, the exact moment that the symbiote moves in front of him, curling an arm around his waist. “Or we can…okay.”

They mold into him, pressing up against every inch of his body. It’s like their nightly hugs, only from the front, which makes it both infinitely more comforting and infinitely more awkward. Eddie is squashed up against their chest, with his lower half caught between their legs and tangled with more of those tentacles, but even so, it feels so damn good that he’s almost angry how easy he’s become to please.

 _You want to be held,_ the symbiote says. _There’s no reason to feel ashamed._

“I’m not. And do you have to say it like that?” Eddie mutters. He stares at their chest, his face slowly flushing red. Did they see it in his brain, or is he really that predictable? “And anyway, you’re the one that went to cuddle _me.”_

They say nothing, which Eddie takes as a victory. He relaxes into it, pressing the side of his face to their chest. It’s nice.

“‘S nice,” he murmurs, lifting his arm to bring it loosely over their waist.

They lie there like that, enjoying the moment and its intimacy. Or maybe it’s just Eddie who enjoys that part; he isn’t sure what the symbiote gets out of it, other than sharing a sense of pleasant calm.

Nevertheless, Eddie finds himself running his palm up and down their back slowly, drawing on old habits, and eventually, the symbiote does the same, dragging their large, slimy hand over his skin.

It’s weird, like things always are with them, but the warmth of the symbiote’s body pressed up against his and the fact that they’re trying brings a smile to his face.

“Hey, wanna get some tots after this?” Eddie asks, keeping his voice quiet. “My treat.”

_It’s always your treat. We live as one._

“It’s still polite to offer,” Eddie says teasingly, poking them in their side. “I could kick you out at any time, y’know.”

 _You can’t, and you won’t,_ the symbiote says confidently, mirroring his gesture. _Because you’re a pussy._

Eddie barks a laugh, and it quiets into a contented hum. They lay there for a while longer; long enough that Eddie’s eyelids start to droop, hanging heavy over his eyes. The symbiote wraps him up in more tentacles, encasing him in his warmth.

“Mm,” Eddie hums, snuggling closer. “You know, you’re not so bad.”

 _I'm not bad,_ the symbiote says. _You said that I am good now._

Eddie giggles tiredly, butting his head against their chest. “Yeah, guess I did. Now be a good boyfriend and keep on cuddling me.”

_Boyfriend?_

The name slips out by accident, but Eddie is too tired to offer more than an embarrassed shrug.

“Well I’m not calling you my partner. That’s just weird. You’re more like a…slime friend?” He starts listing off all the names he can think of while lying there, slurring half the words together. “Goo buddy? Brain pal? Organ eater?”

 _I wouldn’t eat your organs,_ the symbiote defends. _Not anymore. And those are shitty names._

“Wo-ow,” Eddie drawls, wrenching his eyes open to look up at the symbiote. “Love the vote of confidence, dick. I’d like to see you come up with better.”

 _I have dozens already._ A pause. _None of them are in your language._

“Uh huh. Sure. Likely story.”  

That starts a semi-heated discussion over more stupid nicknames—as heated as it can get when Eddie is dozing off in the middle of the afternoon, cuddled up to his symbiote—up until the point where he actually does fall asleep while trying to come up with a good name. He snores, and drools, but the symbiote doesn't mind. They hold him for a long time after, stroking his back just as Eddie had done, until the urge to be entirely one with Eddie is too strong to ignore and they withdraw inside him, feeling more content than they’ve ever felt at any point in their life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know how to end things tbh. Hope you enjoyed! If you wanna chat, you'll find me on [tumblr ](https://incinerates.tumblr.com)and [twitter](https://twitter.com/generalbutton)!!!


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